


smile

by kinpika



Series: signed, sealed, delivered [15]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Morning After, Softness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 02:13:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19368004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika
Summary: “Morning,” she says, in a voice that is croaky from sleep, but so warm, that it spreads through his veins.“Morning,” Charlie greets in return, sure that his face just mirrored the way she smiled.





	smile

When Charlie wakes, the left side of the bed is cold. Window still shut, not a hint of light trying to push through. Unable to determine just what time it was exactly, he spreads out his hands. Finds the edge of the bed, pulling at the flimsy sheet. As he moves, he stretches, a limb cracking, joint popping kind of motion, that may have earned him a disgusted noise or two, had his company still been around.

A smile plays on his lips at that thought. Despite the cooler air, Charlie still doesn’t make any effort to move. One of his rarer days off, and as he brings his fingers back, nails dragging over fabric, he finds no need to think of just what he may be doing. Especially not when his pillows practically call him back. Charlie rolls over then, face first, sighing. Eyes slide shut, breathing evens, the world just seems to drown out into nothing.

It’s a little later when he wakes, finally. The first echoes of light, bordered around the curtain that keeps the day out. Still not enough to judge just where he was at what, what he should do. But that was not the first thing Charlie was concerned for. Just that his arm was going numb, caught under Natasha’s body. Curled into his side, blanket pulled up around her neck. Charlie couldn’t remember the last time he had seen her quite like this, as not even their infrequent times spent together gave him something similar. 

She was smiling in her sleep. A gentle, tender smile, with a hand firmly centred on his chest, his leg caught between hers. No, Charlie couldn’t remember the last time she had seemed so peaceful when sleeping. He remembered the concerns, traded over the tables in the Great Hall. The looks of worry following Natasha as she walked past them all, a dull look in her eye. Her time in St Mungo’s was probably the worst, when she woke in fits and starts, never quite screaming, but it was there, he could see in her face. 

Charlie brushes a loose lock of hair out of her eye. Leans in. Presses a soft kiss against the end of her nose, watching the minute shifts in her face. Not enough to wake her, but it has her hand flex, nose crinkle. Whilst he wouldn’t quite say it to her face, that he found her rather cute at the best of times, Charlie wanted to remember this entirely. Keep this image, somewhere safe, somewhere memorable. 

He dozes, momentarily, Charlie realises, when Natasha finally begins to stir. Slow and steady, the first few blinks clearing her eyes. Charlie doesn’t realise he catches his breath, when that smile that had played at the corner of her mouth spreads, widely, grin greeting him. “Morning,” she says, in a voice that is croaky from sleep, but so warm, that it spreads through his veins. 

“Morning,” Charlie greets in return, sure that his face just mirrored the way she smiled. They’re closer, nose to nose, chest to chest. Charlie is warm all over, especially at the touch of lips. Chaste, so chaste, not nearly reminiscent of the way their night was spent. And he loves it, loves her, loves how she pulls away with a mildly amused face.

Natasha’s hand rests on his cheek, thumb brushing his skin. She doesn’t need to say it, not when Charlie can look in her eyes and see. Not when she smiles, _just_ like that. And when he leans in, once more, he knows that she doesn’t need to hear it, either.


End file.
